From The Dead (17 page)

Drew’s jaw dropped. He swiveled around to his mother
and shouted, “Mom, they have bungee-jumping! Can I try it out?”

Though not keen on the defiance of gravity, Jesse,
eager to sample the parenting role, spoke up nonetheless. “Of
course. Let’s go.”

When Caitlyn returned a look that could penetrate an
ice cube, Jesse knew he’d given the wrong response.

“Or maybe you should ask your mom,” Jesse offered in
a recovery attempt.

Caitlyn looked at the miniature contraption with
reservation. It was more like a safer, hybrid version of the real
thing. A lone father watched as the structure flung his kid several
feet from the ground. And with that, Jesse saw a decision solidify
in Caitlyn’s eyes. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t trust that thing!”
she said.

Jesse, by his own admission, didn’t blame her. If
that father over there decided to go for a whirl on that oversized
rubber band himself, Jesse wouldn’t put it past the device to come
snapping apart and send the guy airborne.

“Why don’t you and Jesse try the scrambler instead?”
Caitlyn suggested.

Yeah, in this case, Jesse put more trust in the tried
and true. “Sounds good to me,” Jesse replied. “Wanna go, big
guy?”

“Sure. Mom, can you hold these?” He handed his dinner
to Caitlyn, who watched as he and Jesse made their way to the
ticket booth.

With a compartment to themselves under flashing neon
lights, the ride attendant locked them in and left to secure other
passengers.

“Do you and your mom come here every year?” asked
Jesse.

“Sometimes.” Given their introduction an hour ago, a
shy Drew said little but seemed to enjoy his mom’s friend. The boy
continued to sneak an occasional look from the corner of his
eye.

“I used to ride the scrambler all the time as a kid,”
Jesse said.

“Did they have black-and-white TV back then?”

“No. Why? Do I look that old?”

Drew shrugged. An innocent mistake, he now grinned at
the humor in his own question. “How much older are you than me,
anyway?”

“I’m your mom’s age. So I’m only eighteen years older
than you.”

“That’s like, almost two decades. Did they have cable
back then?”

Jesse chuckled. “You’re getting better. So what grade
are you in?”

“Fourth.”

“Like it?”

“It’s okay. Homework sucks.”

With the sound of a buzzer, the ride’s tentacles and
compartments whirred into motion and gained momentum. Shrieks and
squeals ensued from nearby compartments as passengers dodged each
other. Through shifts and spins, the ride jerked the father and son
against each other in the cramped quarters. Drew giggled as Jesse
exaggerated the force of momentum.

When the ride decelerated and came to a stop, Jesse
and Drew stepped off to regain their balance and shake the
dizziness from their heads. Drew retrieved his hot dog and soda
from Caitlyn, and then took off toward a booth that caught his eye
up ahead. “Mom, I’ll see you when you catch up.”

”Don’t run into anybody on the way there!” When their
son was beyond earshot, Caitlyn and Jesse sauntered along the
pebble-embedded walking path. “Did he talk to you?” she asked.

“Not much. Of course, we just met.”

“He’ll come around.”

The scent of funnel cakes filled the atmosphere at
the park. Around the corner from a kettle-corn stand, they caught a
whiff of warm butter and salt. By the time they caught up with
Drew, he had finished his dinner and started to thumb his way
through a rack of nature photographs, enlarged and housed in
contemporary frames.

Intrigued by a color photograph of Niagara Falls,
Drew lifted it from the rack. In the photo, the majestic
semi-circle of water foamed and poured in a torrent. “Cool! Mom, we
should go there some time. I want to take my own picture of it and
frame it for my room.”

Jesse looked over his son’s shoulder. “I could show
you how to take a good one. I play around with photography a
little.”

“Really?”

Even Caitlyn stepped back and crossed her arms in
amusement.

“I worked in a photo shop in L.A.,” Jesse
explained.

“You lived in L.A.?” Drew’s eyes widened. “Did you
see anyone famous?”

“Sure. It’s not as big a deal when you live there,
though.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s normal to see people you recognize out
there, so you get used to it. Kind of like getting used to snow
over here—you see it so often, it seems common.”

Drew nodded, once again engrossed in the picture.
“Where is this place?”

“Niagara Falls,” Caitlyn said. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Tell you what,” Jesse said, “if your mom says it’s
okay, maybe we’ll head out someday and look for some good shots for
your room around here.”

From behind, Caitlyn wrapped her arms around Drew.
“Maybe. Right, my little guy?”

* * *

Jesse found Eden’s car already parked in the garage
when he arrived at the house after midnight. He expected to find
her asleep as he tiptoed into the foyer. But no sooner had he
clicked the door shut when Eden raced over to him dressed in baggy
shorts and an oversized T-shirt—the little-sister garb in which she
had always slept. Some things never change.

“How’d it go?” she asked. “You were out late enough!
Were you with them this whole time?”

“Remind me, do you run on double-A batteries?” Jesse
quipped.

“Come on!” She grabbed his arm and dragged him into
the living room, where she pointed to the sofa. “Sit your butt
down. You know I want to know all about how it went tonight!” She
only came up to his chin, and he wanted to call her Squirt.

As Jesse shed his jacket, his sister, her face
ecstatic, sat opposite him. She flicked her hand with a motion that
ordered him to spill his guts.

“So where did you go? What did you do?”

“We went to a craft fair near Canton.”

“And you met Drew?”

Jesse couldn’t help a broad smile. “It was—it was
surreal,” he said, then settled back. His eyes sparkled with life
as he recalled random details from the evening. “I took one look at
him and—that little guy’s a part of me. I mean, he has my eyes and
ears, Caitlyn’s hair and her chin. You can’t help but love the
kid.”

“So, Caitlyn’s comfortable with your getting to know
him?”

“She seems to be. She’s protective.”

“That’s understandable. I’m sure she’s glad you’re
here again, but it will take time for her to realize you’re here to
stay.”

As he thought through the events of that night and
about his newfound son, he gleamed. Then his smile began to wither
as reality set in. “It’s just … I don’t know if I have what it
takes to be his dad. How could I ever measure up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I look at Drew and he looks a lot like me. But
at the same time, we’re two strangers. I have no idea how to relate
to my own son.”

“You were gone a long time. He’s grown up without you
in his life until now. But this is a new start. It’ll work
out.”

Jesse stared at his shoelaces, one of which had come
untied. “I sure hope so.”

“Hey,” Eden began. She leaned forward, gripped his
ankle, and looked straight into his eyes. Her tone sincere, she
said, “I guarantee Drew has wished for his dad. He needs you more
than ever.” She jiggled his ankle. “You can do this. I believe in
you.”

Here—this was Eden’s defining characteristic, the one
that astonished him more than the others. Eden had an inherent
ability to see the best in people—especially when it came to her
brother. She treated him with unconditional acceptance, as if he
could never fall short. Throughout the years he spent in
California, as long as he wasn’t too ashamed, he could admit his
shortcomings to his sister and trust she would remain
nonjudgmental. To talk to Eden in their adulthood breathed fresh
life into him. It made him believe he could accomplish
anything.

How long had it been since Jesse had an influence
like that within arm’s length?

“If Drew doesn’t know you’re his dad, who does he
think you are?”

“We told him I’m a friend.”

“That’s best for now,” she said, ever the social
worker. “The time will come.”

CHAPTER 29

Affixed to the second-floor’s exterior, the wooden
sign read: “Naturally!” The business, sandwiched in townhouse
fashion, shared its walls with a realtor’s office on one side and a
denim store on the other.

On Saturday afternoon, still on an emotional high
from his prior evening with Caitlyn and Drew, Jesse walked into
Blake’s shop. A bell tinkled a greeting from above the doorway. If
he caught the air at the correct angle when he breathed, Jesse
swore he could still smell astringent. Back when Jesse last lived
in Hudson, a sentimental mom-and-pop drugstore, complete with a
vintage soda fountain, had occupied this retail spot, as it had for
decades.

From a far corner, Blake emerged and called out,
“Jesse Barlow, you’ve graced my humble shop with your
presence!”

A customer turned around to witness the episode but
soon returned her attention to a container of vitamin D. Jesse
wondered if he knew her.

With his arms spread wide, Blake gestured around his
domain. “What do you think? Piece of beauty, isn’t it?”

Throughout the store sat rows of glass shelves filled
with vitamins and herbal supplements, bags and jars of
nonperishable, organic food products, and other items whose origins
could be traced to one chemical-free shade of dirt or another.

“Self-employment,” Blake said. “This is my
castle.”

“Nice. How long have you owned it?”

“Coupla years. Got my pharmaceutical degree and
worked in the old drugstore before this.”

Blake didn’t mention Drew or Caitlyn, so Jesse
assumed Eden had yet to tell him. Relieved, Jesse picked up a
plastic jar of fish-oil tablets but returned it to the shelf even
faster. He almost gagged at the pungent odor. “Why natural herbs
and shit—I mean, stuff?”

Blake crossed his arms and examined a few expiration
dates. “As a pharmacist, I saw too much. Too many people taking
prescription drugs every time their legs itched, pumping chemicals
into their kids to calm them down—I don’t know, regardless of what
the FDA says, my conscience feels better now that I’ve turned to
natural products. Not all drugs are bad, but I figure this helps
keep them to a minimum.”

“But they say you can overdose on herbs,” Jesse
said.

“You can overdose on water, too. As long as you keep
your regimen in balance, you’re cool. It’s a natural remedy: You’re
not forcing foreign garbage into your body that it’s not meant to
handle, so it’ll react in a more natural way.” Blake paused, then
chuckled. “Plus you’ll never fail a drug test—like Ryan Reeves from
our basketball team. Remember that moron? Lives in Seattle
now.”

Jesse snickered in return. “Well, my future’s filled
with herbal experiences of my own: My dad gave me a job at the
church—maintenance work, lawn care.”

“Hey, it’s cash, right?”

“At this point, I just want to earn a paycheck. I can
look for more down the road. In the meantime, I have other things
to sort out.”

When Jesse heard the overhead bell tinkle again, he
turned to see a high-school-aged employee walk in for work. After a
casual introduction by Blake, the teenager, Matt, headed over to
the checkout counter.

With a squint toward the window, Blake scratched his
chin. “When was the last time you shot some hoops?” he asked.

“Geez, not since we were on the team.”

“Matt!” Blake called over his shoulder. “”I’m gonna
be out of the office for a while.” While he shouted to his
employee, he shot Jesse a knowing look. “I’ve got some official
business off-site.”

* * *

“Prepare to lose, Barlow!” Blake shouted.

With a dodge to Jesse, Blake attempted a
three-pointer, but the ball deflected off the basketball rim and
into Jesse’s hands for the rebound.

The court, empty on the weekend except for the two of
them, sat at the rear of Jesse’s former elementary school. Along
with other members of their basketball team, they had met here for
games of pickup on countless occasions. Oftentimes they had shown
up drunk on Saturday nights after a high-school party—Jesse had
tried his best to hide his hangovers at church the mornings
after.

Around the half court Jesse traveled before he pulled
a quick move to garner a surprise two-pointer. “Here’s to your
hippie life of herbs.”

“Nice moves on the court, Barlow. It’s good to see
you didn’t lose your talent in L.A.—your inferior talent, that
is.”

“Keep talking, Number Two.”

“Speaking of L.A., how’d you like living there?”

The question took Jesse by surprise. Gone only a week
or so, he had all but forgotten about his former residence.

With a toss of the ball to Blake, who dribbled it
down the center of the court, Jesse answered, “Warm and sunny. You
can’t beat that.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Of course.” Jesse wiped the sweat from his brow.
“Eden didn’t tell you?”

“She didn’t talk much about it.”

“Good. That means you don’t have blackmail
material.”

After an unsuccessful block, Jesse watched Blake sail
the ball through the hoop to bring the score to a tie. As he geared
up to regain his lead, Jesse glanced over at Blake’s dark-blue
convertible in the parking lot.

“How long have you had the car?”

“A few years. Bought it new. Like it?”

“A beauty.”

Blake heard his cell phone chirp from the corner of
the court and ran over to answer. “Hello?” A pause. “I’m at the old
stomping grounds—with Jesse Barlow … Yeah, no joke, he’s in
town.”

Jesse wondered who had called and had a hunch another
reunion would result.